Waiting
by mentalagent13
Summary: Jane and Lisbon's perspectives on waiting in 2 parts. Rated K due to a bit of Red John.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **I am on a roll probably because today was an unexpected snow day, which means I have time to do something completely unproductive, like write a story. Takes place sometime in and around season 7, so spoilers for season 7. Just some thoughts that came to my mind and they nicely put themselves into a story. This will be in two parts, his and hers. Happy reading!

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing pertaining to The Mentalist

Waiting

He was never much good at waiting for the things he wanted. Instead, he pushed headlong into it and made sure he got those things in the shortest amount of time possible, not caring who he took out along the way. When his first wife, Angela, had been pregnant with Charlotte, he could hardly contain his excitement at the idea of meeting their child for the first time. Charlotte had been a week late, making him wait even longer. Angela had told him it was a lesson she was trying to teach him. There were many times he wished he had listened.

Six years later, he sat in the living room, hands died red, trying in vain to find signs of life in his family, waiting for the police to arrive. They brought the coroner with them, and an ambulance. The police questioned him incessantly, but he didn't hear them. He watched the black bags be wheeled out of his house on stretchers. The ambulances didn't run the lights.

He was forced to wait to bury his wife and daughter because their bodies were evidence in a criminal investigation. The medical examiner tried to move as quickly as possible, but the mortician couldn't schedule the funeral until they had already been gone for 2 weeks. He didn't plan the service; just let the mortician choose what would look nice. He didn't care. His wife and daughter weren't here anymore. After the funeral, he drove himself to the hospital to be admitted. He couldn't wait to die, but needed to live to catch Red John. Sophie helped him find his personality again, but a piece was missing and he was sure he would wait his entire life to find it again.

Then he met Teresa Lisbon.

Waiting took on a whole new meaning.

With Angela, waiting had been difficult and time consuming. He was as impatient as a child to move on to the next big thing in life. He had wanted to get to what he considered to be the 'fun' side of life. Teresa Lisbon was different. She didn't have the patience that Angela possessed, and he didn't quite know what to do. Lisbon would frequently yell at him, again something he was not accustomed to. He made the mistake about complaining about the amount of time it took to do something once. She had calmly pointed to the door and told him where he could go. Her colorful language gave him no chance to come up with anything except a terrible picture that frightened him more than he wanted to admit. It was after that he acquired the couch.

Waiting for Red John to hurt her had been the most difficult time in his life. He knew she was the one person in the world that Red John could target to completely and utterly break him once again. Most of his missing pieces were back in place. They didn't all fit together like they should, but some had begun to change shape to fit together better; fit around the jagged edges of the space and leave it as a smooth hole. It was never healed, but not as painful as it once was. He knew that Lisbon had done that for him. The day Lorelei asked for Teresa's body to please Red John he knew he was in too deep; he knew he couldn't bring himself off of the edge away from her. He had to push her away to protect her. Why couldn't she see that?

The bloody smiley face painted over her features destroyed what little sanity he had left. He was panicking as he begged for something to clean her up with. It was sealed in his memory now. Red John was targeting her. He would not let him get her. Suddenly, waiting for the right moment to strike was not as difficult. He would have one chance to rid the world of the truly horrible man once and for all.

Destroying Red John was not as satisfying as he thought it would be. Waiting for the light to go out in the man's eyes was gruesome. Patrick Jane had never considered himself a killer. In that moment, he realized he was, and deserved to die. The gun in his hand felt like his saving grace. He began to put it under his chin, waiting to feel the cold metal. Lisbon stopped him. Not physically, no she wasn't with him. Deniability was her best friend. It was the look on her face he imagined she had waiting for him to return to her. So instead of pulling the trigger, he left the gun there and called her, so she wouldn't have to wait, and worry.

Coming back to her had been the best choice he had ever made. She had missed him as well. It felt so good to work with her and he knew he wouldn't have to wait long to tell her how he felt. He wanted to actually tell her why he had decided to come back. Then, Marcus Pike showed up and he was forced to continue to wait; except he almost ran out of time. It was ironic for a man that hated waiting.

Now he finally had her, and he couldn't wait to see what would happen next.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** I hope that you liked the first installment! This is the second (and last) part of the story. Happy reading!

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing pertaining to The Mentalist

Waiting II

Waiting for her was a necessity. She hated it. She had spent most of her childhood and teenage years waiting for her father to sober up so she could have a father again. When he was angry, she had to keep her brother's quiet and wait for the storm to pass. She never waited for a beating to stop. It was her job to try to interfere, to break it up. More often than not, she ended up with the bruises meant for the younger boys. Protecting them became her life.

In college, she thought she had everything figured out. She was finally away from the man that had created so much havoc in her life. Her oldest brother was big enough to keep their father from hurting the younger ones. Football had muscled him out and at 16 he was strong enough to carry her around the house over his shoulder. The memories always made her smile because they were so good.

Her first real relationship was everything she hoped it would be, at first. A student in criminology should have seen it sooner, but psychologists say you look for someone like your father. She was convinced she wouldn't fall into that trap. It took her by surprise the night he slapped her in anger. He hadn't had any alcohol; he was angry over something stupid that she can't even remember. She cried. He apologized and promised to never do it again. Three weeks later she had a black eye. Her life became a game of waiting for her boyfriend to get angry again. Most of the time she could placate him and he wasn't dangerous. The third time he hit her, she left. She was tired of waiting for his promise to come true.

Bosco's attraction for her was obvious when she was a rookie. Working with him was a dream. He treated her like she knew something and was beneficial to the unit. She worked with him for years; met his wife, and his children. Bosco had a life and he was her superior. He never said anything, but she knew. She respected him too much to ask for a transfer. Bosco was a good man, but she waited for the day he took a step too far. When he did, she kept it quiet. Never knowing that she might have to use it to save a man she cared about from the man she respected. Bosco hadn't understood the boundaries, or her. He only saw what he wanted to see, what he wanted to be attracted to. He could see that she was waiting for someone. She had an idea who it was, but part of her wasn't sure. They both needed more time.

Waiting to hear from Jane as he pursued Red John were the worst moments of her life. She couldn't sit still. When she did sit down, she rocked back and forth, back and forth. She didn't hear anything Abbott said. Cho stared at her, and Rigsby and Van Pelt kept trying to tell her that Jane would be ok. Cho never spoke; she and he both knew that there was a good chance they would never see Jane again. At one point, she put her head in her hands and let the tears fall. No one on the team looked at her. She didn't try to hide her tears when he called to tell her it was over. Jane was leaving and she was tired of hiding; tired of waiting for him.

He had invented a new kind of torture after he left. The first letter surprised her. It was sweet, and let her know that he was ok, where ever he was. After that, she found herself checking for the mail 2 or 3 times a day. On Sundays, she couldn't wait for Monday to see if he had sent her a letter. He didn't bother with a pattern. He sent them sporadically. Sometimes she got three in a week, then she wouldn't see another letter for a month. It almost drove her insane. Almost.

Seeing him again was like coming up for a breath of fresh air. She had gotten his letters, but to actually see him again was bliss. He told her that he missed her. She reciprocated and the world seemed right again for a moment. That was until he told her she would stay in Texas with him. She had waited 2 years for him, and was sure she had started to move on. So she informed him she wasn't going to stay. His look of defeat almost made her change her mind. Instead, she chose to make him wait for her. Turn the tables on him for once, maybe it would make him understand all of the pain and fear she went through for all those years.

Meeting Marcus and going away with him seemed like the right decision. She had stayed with Jane, but he hadn't moved from the stalemate they had come to so long ago. She decided to choose the path that was open for her. She wouldn't have to wait for Marcus. He would do anything she wanted as soon as she asked for it. He was willing to give her the life she dreamed of. Everything was going wonderfully with Marcus. Then that bastard had to go and plan a dinner to try to make her stay. He had waited too long. She was leaving and that was final. Marcus was a good solid man, the kind of man any girl would want to marry.

She was on the plane waiting for it take off when a disturbance up front caught her attention. Of course it was him. He couldn't leave her alone. Why couldn't he just let her go? It was in that moment he said the words she had been waiting to hear her entire life (or at least it felt like it). He was so open and honest in that moment that she couldn't deny him. Especially after the woman sitting beside her encouraged her to go to him. She did, and didn't regret it.

So when her brother asked her why it had taken her so long to be with the man she loved when he had been right there the whole time, her response was simple.

"Waiting for him."


End file.
